


Obsession

by Danagirl623



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Asexual Character, Father-Daughter Relationship, Forced Marriage, IrishJohn, M/M, Omega John, Stalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2020-08-23 06:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danagirl623/pseuds/Danagirl623
Summary: In this A/B/O universe, if you are over a certain age, you legally must be married.John Watson is recently single... Someone’s got his eye on John, but not if a certain Holmes has anything to say about it.





	1. A funeral and a wedding

John Watson ran his fingers over his suit, in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles. His eyes roamed over to the 13-month-old toddler that was being passed from his Nan to his sister then back to the closed casket where his wife lay. He squeezed his eyes close, trying to stave off the incoming tears. He sniffed loudly, as a squeaky little voice called, “Dada!” John quickly wiped his eyes before he swung around to his little girl. He held his arms out for her, and she snuggled into his arms. 

“Dada!” 

“Hello, my princess. Don’t you look lovely in your new dress?”

The little girl giggled, and hugged her Dad around his neck. John held her close to his chest, and whispered, “Daddy loves you, acushla.” In response, she grabbed a fistful of his jacket and tugged. 

_ This is _ ** _why_ ** _ my suit’s wrinkled. _ John thought ruefully, as he felt his pocket go off. He shifted his daughter to the other arm, and pulled his phone out. 

“Oh, Johnny, give her to me,” Bethany Watson chided him. “This gorgeous granddaughter of mine and you barely let me hold her.”

“That’s because you shake, Ma,” John said dismissively. “I can see that rehab worked well for you.” 

“Johnny!”

“It’s John!” John hissed, fumbling with his phone. He looked around, and saw his Nan. He made his way over to her, dodging the few remaining mourners. “Nan? Can you hold my daughter for a mo’?”

“Oh, John! Of course I’ll hold my acushla.” Abby Watson held her arms out for Rosie, who John easily transferred into her arms. 

“Ta, Nan.”

Abby shuffled off with the toddler in her arms and made idle conversation. John watched them go, before he opened the smartphone. 

_ Call me immediately. Shit’s gotten worse. MH _   
  
John rolled his eyes before he dialed MH’s private number. The line rang through until John heard a slight hum and a loud exhale. “There’s a black sedan on the way for you. I need you here, now.”

“What the _ fuck _ is so important that I can’t even mourn my own wife?” John snarled, hot tears welling up in his eyes. 

The voice on the other line sighed loudly.

“Are you pinching the bridge of your nose? Knock it off. My wife is dead.” John asked, wiping the tears off his cheek. 

“Major James Sholto has put a bid in on you. Do you wish to be Dr. James Sholto?” 

“Of course I don’t,” John said forcefully. “My wife isn’t even cold yet and he’s fucking-” John cut himself off, and wiped more tears away. “Jesus fucking christ, Mycroft. What can I do?”

“Get in the car when it comes. Don’t ask too many questions…. How good of a liar are you?”

John sniffed, “I’m an adept liar.”

“You’re going to need to be. John, make sure you bring your daughter.” 

John laughed a dangerous chuckle. “Where I go, she goes.”

“You’ll get a text when the car’s there.” Mycroft said, before he disconnected the call. 

John stared at the phone in disbelief and tucked it into his pocket with a note of finality before he went back to the funeral parlor. He cleared his throat, and said loudly, “Sorry, folks. It’s time to go…” John’s family looked at him in shock, but his expression remained emotionless. “Rosie and I need-” 

“Of course, acushla. We shouldn’t have stayed as long as we have,” Abby said, catching on that _ something _ was happening and John just need compliance. 

“Oh, Mother-” Bethany started to complain, but a stern look from John quieted her. “Johnny Watson, I’ll never know what goes on in that head of yours. You are a dreadful child.”

“I’m better behaved than my dear sister,” John muttered, as he watched the women in his life file out of the funeral home. Abby came over to John, and transferred Rosie into his arms. 

“My dear lad, call me if you need anything. Money, housing, a car.” 

“Nan, we will be fine. I’ve always managed in the past, now’s no different.”

Abby placed a hand on her grandson’s cheek. “Johnny, I’m serious. If you need anything-”

“Nan, you’re the first person I’ll call. I swear to you. Please go home.” John leaned into the warm hand and closed his eyes momentarily. “Thank you, Nan. I’m so glad you could come.”

Abby tsked, “Is breá liom tú.”

“I love you too, Nan.” John placed a little kiss on her cheek. “Bí curamach.”

“You need to practice, Johnny.” Abby said before she walked out of the funeral home. 

“Dada!” Rosie cried, excitedly slapping his chest. 

“Oh my goodness!” John exclaimed, switching back to Daddy mode. He grinned at his daughter, and she grinned back. “Is breá liom tú, acushla.”

“Yea, yea, yea!” she said, excitedly bouncing in his arms. 

A buzzing in John’s pocket told him his ride was waiting for him. He walked over to the funeral director. “I’d like to settle the bill.”

“It’s been handled, Dr.”

“Who handled it?” John asked, with a loud exhale.

“A Mr. Sherlock Holmes.” the funeral director said, glancing over his notes. John nodded, and switched his daughter to the other hip.

“You’re such a big girl!” John cooed at her, smiling. He glanced at the funeral director and shook his head. “I had half with me tonight like we agreed.”

“It’s been handled, Dr.”

“Not by me, though.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“It bloody well should be!” John cried, upsetting his daughter with the loud shout. 

“Look, Dr… I perform a service, I expect payment. I only agreed to a payment plan because I felt terrible for you, which is why I agreed to half the cost now and monthly installments until it’s paid off. This way, we both get what we want. I got paid. Your wife got the funeral you wanted.” 

John bounced Rosie in his arms as he listened to the funeral director speak. “Then I guess everyone is satisfied.” 

“Thank you for business. Come again.” The funeral director smiled mildly at him.

_ If only I had my pistol… _ John thought longingly, before he turned and walked out.

Sitting in front of the funeral home was a black SUV idling. John approached the car, and forced a smile and wave. The driver exited the SUV excitedly, and helped John get his daughter in the car before he helped John in himself. 

“Where are we going?” John asked, double checking his daughter’s car seat. 

“HQ,” came the terse reply. 

John settled back into his seat and got buckled himself. He reached over to take Rosie’s hand while they rode to MI-6 headquarters. 

Quietly John spoke to her, “Acushla, I’m going to take care of you any way I have to. Is breá liom tú. I love you, my darling.”

“Dada. Mama. lala,” Rosie babbled, happily. 

“Yeah, I know. I miss Mama, too.”

“Mama, mama, mama!” 

John squeezed her hand, and just studied her sweet innocent face. John’s phone vibrated again. John pulled it out of his pocket, and glanced at the screen. 

_ I’ll meet you in the garage. MH _

“Shit,” John muttered, as he read the message. “Poop’s hit the fan, acushla!”

“Oop! Oop!” 

The driver passed the building and pulled into the garage. Two tall figures dressed in black were waiting for John and his daughter. The driver slammed the car into park and jumped out to help John out of the SUV.

John pulled his daughter out of the carseat, and stepped out of the car with her. He nodded a greeting at Mycroft and gave the other man a once over. “Hello Mycroft.”

“Dr. Watson, this is my brother, Sherlock. Sherlock, this is John.” 

The tall thin man glanced over John and his daughter, then asked, “Why do you blame yourself for the embassy?”

John regarded him coldly. “I should have acted faster.”

“It’s not your fault,” Mycroft said firmly. “Your delayed actions prevented the death of hundreds.” 

“But not the person who mattered the most to me,” John said, evenly. Rosie held her arms out to Sherlock. “No, acushla.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and took the toddler into his arms. “You don’t speak for me. I’ll hold my daughter whenever I want.”

“Your daughter?” John asked, with a pointed look. 

“I thought you handled this,” Sherlock demanded of his brother as he bounced the little girl on his hip.

“John… You know the marriage laws, correct?”

“Of course I do! Why do you think I was hell-bent and determined to make it work with Mary?”

“Mary’s dead.. And I’m _ certain _ she wouldn’t want you shipped out of the country for being unlawful-”

“Mycroft!” John snapped, wrenching his daughter out of Sherlock’s arms. 

Mycroft cleared his throat, and said evenly, “It has come to my attention that Major James Sholto wants to marry you… His last three spouses have all died mysteriously-”

“I refused James several times before Mary.” John interrupted Mycroft. “You don’t have to remind me that his spouses died suspiciously. I know more about that man then you do. Also,” John started, but stopped to adjust his grip on his flailing daughter. Sherlock rolled his eyes, and pulled her into his arms. John sighed, but let him. “I just buried my wife. I have a mourning period, as is customary.”

“Major Sholto has been granted the right to marry you by the Queen herself.”

“Why? why do this?”

“He needs an heir. You have an heir.” Sherlock said, as he rubbed Rosie’s back. Sherlock cleared his throat, and made eye contact with the child. “I’m asexual,” he announced. “And any spouse that would want me would want to have sex so you can see how this would work for me.” 

“But how does this help me?” John asked, frustrated.

“You get my last name, my money, a safe place to raise our- your daughter.” Sherlock paused a moment before he added, “Most of all, protection from Sholto.” Sherlock bounced Rosie on his hip while he talked. “Would you like to be a Holmes, little girl? 

John exhaled loudly. “My wife isn’t even in the ground yet.. It’s going to look-”

“I agree, John, it’s completely less than ideal, and honestly you’ve had a really shitty run lately. I don’t know why I am worried about this…”

“You feel just as guilty about the embassy bombing as I do. You hand picked me for the mission and it ended both my marriage and my career.” John said, pointedly, clenching and unclenching his fists. “If we’re going to do this, Sherlock, it’s going to be a proper marriage. We’re going to talk about things and work as a team. I’m going to expect you to pick up your socks.”

“I’m going to be honest with you, I’ll agree, but never follow through.”

John laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “This is going to be a shit show.”

“Is this sarcasm?” Sherlock asked, with a glance at John, then his brother. 

John glanced at Sherlock, shook his head, “let’s do this before I change my mind.”

Sherlock cleared his throat, “I’m not giving up my name. Sherlock Holmes is a strong name and I like it.”

“Is this important to you?” John asked, and Sherlock nodded. “So, stay a Holmes. I don’t care.”

Sherlock looked him over, then shyly asked “Would you like to be a Holmes?”

“Rosie would have to be one too.”

Sherlock smiled, and picked Rosie up to talk to her. “Would you like to be a Holmes, also, little one?”

“Ho! Ho!” She agreed, with a smile. 

John laughed again, then pulled her into his arms. “I guess that decides it, then. Let’s do this.” 

“You’re insane,” Sherlock said, with a laugh. 

John held his free hand out to Sherlock, before shaking it. “You’re no better. Your brother said, “danger” and you’re here.”

“Mycroft has been good to me.” 

John laughed, as they walked through the darkened building. “He’s been a right arse to me, so bully for you!”

Sherlock laughed heartily, and bounced the baby in his arms. “Oh, he’s amazing Mycroft. This ‘marriage’ might actually be fun.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“Consulting detective.”

“I’m a doctor.”

“I need help…” Sherlock said, switching Rosie from one arm to the next. “Consulting, I mean. I have a bored landlady. She’ll love your daughter.”

John couldn’t reply because they were at the marriage chamber. Mycroft stopped walking, and made a shooing motion to get them into the room. John took a deep breathe, and stepped into the marriage room. Sherlock followed bouncing Rosie in his arms. 

“Be good, my acushla. Dada’s about to start a new adventure,” John whispered to her, and kissed the top of her head. 

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Sherlock agreed. 

They approached the podium in the center of the room. Sherlock pressed the red button in the center. 

“Alpha, place your second finger of the left hand on the lighted panel,” a cool electronic voice said. Sherlock placed his finger where appropriate. Sherlock focused on Rosie, and ignored the marriage podium. 

“Omega, place your second finger of the left hand on the lighted panel.” John put his finger on the podium. A quick blood sample was collected from the two men. 

“Congratulations Alpha and Omega. You are now registered as one family. Go forth and repopulate this Earth.” The marriage podium whirred off, and the lights in the room lit the exit path. 

John took his daughter out of his now husband’s arms. “Dada is going to take care of you.” Mycroft appeared out of nowhere. 

“Did it work?”

“Yes, Brother Mine.” 

“You’re safe from Sholto for now,” Sherlock said, brushing his curls out of his face. 

John glanced at Mycroft, and cleared his throat. “We’re even. You don’t owe me anything else.”

“Oh my innocent lad, you have no idea how much I owe you,” Mycroft smiled. “Brother mine, now that you are married, you are no longer mine to babysit. Good luck, Dr. John Watson.”


	2. A confession and a flat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tells his Nan about his wedding and sees the new apartment

John Watson had his arms full of his daughter and her supplies as he eased his way into his grandmother’s flat door open. “Nan?”

“Hello, Johnny. I’m in the kitchen.”

“Nan’s always in the kitchen, isn’t she?” John smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he carried Rosie to the kitchen. John placed her things down on the counter and lowered her to the floor. Rosie made a small noise of surprise, before she ran off to the living room. “She loves those plastic covered couches.”

“So did you, as I recall.”

John smiled sadly, before he hugged his grandmother tightly. “Thank you for last night. I really appreciate you coming to the funeral.”

“Acushla, you act like I wouldn’t!” 

“Ro ate breakfast. I bathed her, and dressed her for the day.”

“What’s on the docket?” 

_ Nan asks ‘what’s on the docket?’ oh, nothing much Nan. I’m going to look at flats with a stranger that I married to avoid- _

John cut his own thoughts off with a sigh, “Fancy a cuppa?” he turned to the stove and started making tea. Abby came over to the stove, and placed her calming hands on John’s busy ones. 

“What happened, my acushla?” 

“My life is very strange, Nan.”

“It has been since the day you were born.”

John leaned forward to turn the stove on, and took a deep breath as he relaxed back into position. 

_ You need to get yourself together. _

John watched the kettle boil, but didn’t say anything and he listened to his daughter in the other room. He felt Abby leave his side, and knew she was watching Rosie.

_ You no longer have a wife. You have a husband. _

John exhaled loudly, struggling to hold tears back. He fiddled with his military ring-_ Never did get Mary that ring I promised her- _and covertly rubbed his eyes. 

_ A husband that doesn’t like having sex. _

The whistling kettle brought John back to his task. He flipped the stove off, and poured two cups. He put the kettle on the tray. He added one of Rosie’s cups and a few biscuits to the tray. John picked it up and carried it into the sitting room where his two best girls were. Rosie was sliding off the plastic covered chair, and laughing about it. Then she’d stand up and do it again. 

John placed the tray down and sat down in his favorite armchair. “Rosie, you are being a silly girl right now.”

“Da! Da!” She stated, not stating very clearly if she agreed or disagreed. 

“You must enunciate, acushla,” John instructed, picking up a biscuit. “Would you like a biscuit?” Rosie slid off the chair, and giggled out a “oop!” before she ran over to her dad with her hand out. “Manners!”

“Johnny Watson, just give her the damned biscuit.”

“Nan!” 

“Pees, Da!” Rosie said, making a grabbing motion with her outstretched hand. John laughed, placing the biscuit in her hand. 

“I’m going to finish my tea, Nan, then I’m going to see a new flat.”

“Make sure there’s room for me in that place. This old house is getting too much for me.” 

“Well, Nan, I’ll have to check with my Alpha about that,” John said, as he took a sip of tea, casually. 

_ As if it’s not the scariest thing in the world that I have to tell my Nan. _

“Oh, Johnny!” Abby smiled at her grandson, and clapped her hands in glee. “I knew Jimmy would find you! He’s always had such a crush on you.”

John’s ears tinged pink, as he muttered, “it was more than a crush, Nan.” 

“Oh, Johnny. You didn’t tell me you two dated.”

“Fucked more like it,” John said, placing his tea cup down. “No, Nan, it wasn’t James.” 

“Acushla!” she scolded, “have you had a secret paramour behind your Nan’s back?”

“So, this bloke’s called Sherlock Holmes.”

“Holmes you say, dear?” Abby asked, sipping her tea cup, calmly. “Any relation to your boss?”

“The very brother of my boss.” 

“How did this happen?” 

_ Suspicion. _ John thought. _ Why do I try to lie to her? _

“Well, we’ve been a bit friendly the last few months, and he’s really been there for me with Mary,” John tried, knowing his words were hollow to her ears. Rosie ran over to her father, and hugged his knee. John placed his hand on her back. 

“Why haven’t you mentioned him? Why wasn’t he at the funeral?”

“Because he was busy.”

“Tá tú suite orm, Acushla!” Abby shouted, startling Rosie into tears. John put his teacup down, and scooped her up. He held out her cup to her and she hid her face in his shoulder. 

“Nan-”John tried to explain. 

“Give me my granddaughter and get out, acushla. I’m furious with you. Go, bréagadóir. I need time, and you need to meet your Alpha.” 

John sighed loudly, and stood up. He kissed Rosie on top of her head. “Do you want to go to Nan?” 

“No!” Rosie said, sobbing again. 

“You know Nan’s rules, if you are going to cry, you must do so in your bedroom.” John carried her into the nursery. He placed her gently in her cot, and she continued to cry softly. John kissed his fingertips and pressed them to his daughter’s cheek. 

John’s eyes swept around the room, systematically ignoring the majority of the aged photos until he saw one of two young boys with their arms slung around each other. John moved over to it, and picked it up.

  


** _John waited for his best friend for nearly an hour. He heard the door slam and a pound of feet run through the house. _ ** ** _  
_ ** ** _  
_ ** **** _“Johnny!” James shouted, running full force at the other boy. John turned around just in time to catch him. James spent a minute just staring at John. _

** _John meanwhile thought things like _ ** mine, my Alpha, my husband, my lover ** _before James squeezed him a bit tighter than necessary. _ **

** _“Jimmy!” John squealed, burying his nose where the boy’s shoulder met his neck. _ **

** _“Johnny,” James whispered, lowly. “Your Nan will see us.” _ **

** **

** _John gently nipped at James’ neck, clutching the back of the other boy’s t-shirt. “I don’t care. I’ve missed you.” _ **

** _“Omega, I care, so you should.” _ **

** _John laughed, and gently bit at James’ scent gland. “It’s my birthday, Alpha. I’m fourteen. No one can hurt us today.”_ **

** _James laughed softly, and kissed John’s scent gland. “There is no such thing as birthday magic.”_ **

** _John tilted his head up, and caught James’ lips with his. They kissed sloppily like the inexperienced teenagers they were. _ **

** _“Oh, acushla,” Abby sighed, entering the kitchen, carrying a dirty tea tray. _ **

** _“I told you we’d get caught,” James muttered, taking John’s hand._ **

** _“It’s just Nan. She-”_ **

** _“Téigh go dtí do sheomra, Johnny,” she said, firmly. John started to pull James with him. “Jimmy, stay here.” _ **

  


Sadly, John placed the framed photo back on the dresser, and glanced at his daughter who was sleeping peacefully. John went back downstairs, and ducked into the living room. “Nan? I’m heading out.” Abby nodded, and turned the page in her magazine. “Ro’s sleeping.” no response from his grandmother. “I can’t believe you kept all those old pictures of James and I.” John watched his grandmother not respond to him. “Well, I love you Nan.”

“Is breá liom tú, Johnny.”

John nodded at her words, before he stated, “I’ll call you when I’m ready to pick her up.”

“Spend the night with your Alpha, acushla. I’ll take care of your daughter.”

“Thank you, Nan. I appreciate you. Bí curamach.”

  


John sat in the cab on the way to the flat at Baker Street, counting on his fingers as he rode. He was thinking about his life with Mary and how it was as close to perfection. 

_ The Doctor once said, “Things change, and so must I.” That’s what I’ve got to do. I’ve handled loads of things… What was that saying Mary used to say? Chin up, Mr. Watson. It could always be worse… _

The cab stopped outside of the 221 Baker Street. John pulled his wallet out, and tapped the payment screen with his card. He tucked it away, as he walked up to the building. He knocked on the door, and waited. 

An elderly lady wearing a smart suit opened the door. “Oh, Sherlock!”” she called excitedly, turning away from John. “Your Omega is here!” She turned back to John, and smiled politely. “Come in, come in. he’s upstairs in B. up those stairs just there.” She stepped out of his way, and shut the door firmly behind John. A gentle hand touched his shoulder. 

“Thank you for coming into Sherlock’s life. He needs a steadying force in his life.”

“I’m not really sure that’s me, but I’m going to do my best,” John said, as he turned to go upstairs. 

  
John made it to the top of the stairs, and knocked. 

“Go away Hudders!” Sherlock shouted, as a loud crash happened. 

“It’s John.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sherlock said, pulling the door open. “Hi.”

“Hello, Mr. Holmes.”

“Call me ‘Sherlock’, please.”

“Sherlock,” John agreed, stepping past him. His eyes roamed the filthy room, and he carefully started walking through it. 

“It’s a great space.”

“Well, it will be once it’s cleaned up.”

“This is cleaned up,” Sherlock said, blandly, glancing around. He picked up a few books, and shoved them in the nearest box. “There’s an attic upstairs and I thought we could split it in half for you and her.” 

John stopped at the window, and glanced out. “This is a disaster. Rosie could die forty-”

“Where is Rosie?” Sherlock asked, as he moved a box to the kitchen table. 

“She’s at Nan’s house.”

“Oh!” Sherlock said, as he dusted his hands off. “Hudders said that she’d rent ‘C’ to us too if your Nan wants to live with us.” Sherlock paused, then glanced again at John. John wasn’t used to being studied this intensely, and he moved away from the window. He picked up a new book, and added it to a random box. 

“Hudders?” John asked, wiping his hands on his pants. 

“She used to be my Nanny. I helped her during some trouble with her husband a few years ago. He was sentenced to be put to death.”  


“You saved him from death?”

Sherlock blinked at John, and shook his head. “No, I insured his death.” 

“Why?”

“Mr. Hudson was a very bad man, and he hurt Hudders. So I did what I had to do to keep my pack safe,” Sherlock said, nonchalantly. “Now, that pack includes you and Rosie.”

John considered what Sherlock had said, before he blurted out, “You’re not my first Alpha.”

Sherlock made eye contact with John, trying to read his expression. “I’m not a very good Alpha. I don’t have very many instincts that guide me. So I use my brain, but-” Sherlock sighed, throwing a few more things into a box. “I have blind spots about humans-”

“Are you not human?” John asked, almost with a laugh. 

Sherlock blinked at John, and burst out with a laugh. “No one’s ever been brave enough to ask me to my face.”

“I can’t imagine anyone would. You’re quite an imposing figure.”

Sherlock turned John’s words over in his mind, before he said softly. “It sounds like a compliment.”

“It was,” John assured him. 

Sherlock studied his new Omega and quite liked what he saw. The man was obviously intelligent enough to keep up with him, and for a moment-a very tiny one- he was grateful his big brother knew him so well. “Dinner?” He asked, crisply. 

“Starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tá tú suite orm = you’re lying to me!
> 
> Bréagadóir = liar! 
> 
> téigh go dtí do sheomra = go to your room
> 
> Is breá liom tú = I love you 
> 
> Bí curamach = Be safe


	3. A dinner and a stalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read the label on the biscuit tin. John has a dinner with Sherlock and his stalker appears.

The cab ride to Angelo’s was a quiet one. John got out of the car, and pulled his wallet out to pay. A glance at Sherlock shaking his head had him putting his wallet away. 

“I’m the Alpha, John,” Sherlock said, as he handed the driver cash. John nodded, realizing his faux pas. 

“Something to discuss, I guess,” John agreed, following Sherlock into the building. Sherlock walked over to a table, and flung himself into a seat. John rolled his eyes, but pulled his own chair out. He sat down in the chair, and studied his dining companion. 

“Sherlock!” A loud rotund man with a bright red face shouted in greeting. Sherlock smiled politely. 

“Hello, Angelo,” Sherlock grinned at him, then gestured to John. “This is my spouse, John.”

“Hello, John. Any mate of Sherlock’s is one of mine. Welcome to- I’m going to get a candle. It’s more romantic!”

The husbands sat at the table, as Angelo waddled off. “That’s not necessary,” John started to say, but stopped himself. 

“Afghanistan or Iraq?” Sherlock asked, as he pushed the menu to the side. John made a polite “what do you mean?” face. “Which was it? Afghanistan or Iraq?” 

Angelo returned with the candle, and placed it down between them. It was already lit, so he took John’s food order. John stared at his spouse, and before he took a sip of water. Hesitantly he stated, “Afghanistan.”

Sherlock nodded his head, “That makes sense. So do you want children?”

John’s eyebrows knit together, and he looked at the man in front of him. “How old are you?”

“Twenty nine,” Sherlock replied, idly. He was looking out the windows to see what was behind John.

“Why haven’t you been married before?”

Sherlock made brief eye contact with John before he turned back to the window. “I have four degrees in anything from Chemistry to Biological Engineering. I’ve been in uni since I was fifteen years old. I have filed for seventeen marriage exclusions. One for every year of university, and two extra since graduating with my final degree.”

“And they were granted?” John asked, running his fingers over the edge of the menu.

“Naturally. My brother’s the head of the department,” Sherlock said turning back to John and cleared his throat. “So, do you want children?”

John shook his head, and held up a finger. “I’m not ready to answer that.”

“Do you expect a ring?” Sherlock asked, noting the lack of a tan line from his previous marriage.

“No.”

“I’ll get you something nice, John. Do you want to go back to MI-6, well now that you’re married again?”

“I do want to work.”

“I’ve got more money than the British bank,” Sherlock said, leaning forward to pluck the menu away from John. He placed it to the side with his own. He picked up his phone, typed something, and then smiled widely at John. “You’ll never have to work again. I don’t want to have sex. Really John, you could do worse.” 

John exhaled loudly, rolling his eyes. “Your brother failed to mention how conceited you were.”

“This is modest.” 

Sometime while the spouses were talking, Angelo brought back a bottle of wine for John. John pulled the glass up to his mouth and swallowed most of it quickly. “What do you do for a living?” 

Sherlock leaned over and causally filled up John’s glass again. “You tell me.”

John smiled, realizing that Sherlock knew he had looked him up at some point. “It said ‘The World’s Only Consulting Detective’ but that’s not a job title.”

“I invented it.” 

John took another gulp of wine. “If you want to be a detective so badly, why not join the force? Surely that’s a better place for an amatuer-”

“I’m hardly an amatuer.”

“Prove it,” John looked at his husband, smiling. Angelo returned with John’s meal, and placed it in front of him. John dug in. After a few minutes of silence, John glanced up to see Sherlock study him. 

“When I asked you today, ‘Afghanistan or Iraq?’ You seemed surprised. Even after reading my website. You should have expected it.”

“The Science of Deduction,” John stated, trying to sound posher than he was. 

Sherlock laughed. “Exactly. I can tell so many things just by looking. Like you. Soldier, screwed up family, mourning.” 

“You have access to MI-6 records,” John stated. “You looked me up too. You were probably bored this morning-”

“I absolutely didn’t look you up in MI-6’s files. I observed you,” Sherlock said, reaching over to take a chip off John’s plate. 

John turned his plate so the chips were closer for easier access. John took a sip of wine. “Are you going to co-parent with me or are you going to be like the father from _ Mary Poppins?” _

Sherlock dug through his mind palace to place the reference and laughed out loud as his mind replayed the scene in question. “No, I don’t think I’ll be that detached.” 

“Oh, that’s a relief,” John agreed, pushing his plate to Sherlock. “I want dessert, and more wine.” Sherlock poured more wine into John’s glass, before John was swallowing it down. “This is lovely.”

Sherlock glanced at the label, snorting out a laugh. “It should be for that price. Also, they usually have really good gypsy tart.”

John smiled widely, “That sounds amazing. Any treacle tart or jam roly-polies?” 

“Oh, no, but there’s a bakery only five minutes from our flat.” 

“Can we go there? I love London at night.”

“Have you lived in London for your whole life?” Sherlock asked, stealing another chip.

“No, I moved here when I was-” John paused, then shook his head. “I hated it at first. My wife moved here for a job. She was a nurse, and I moved with her after my discharge. We lived three minutes from-” John cut himself off, and made eye contact. “You don’t care.”

“You’re fascinating,” Sherlock announced. “Angelo! Bring us some gypsy tart!” Sherlock took a sip of water. “Tell me about your wife.”

John paused a moment, taking a sip of wine. “She was a bitch of a woman.”

“How did you two meet?” Sherlock asked, leaning forward tapping on the table.

John glanced up over Sherlock’s shoulder, and for just a second a blur of _ something _ was visible. John blinked once. 

John’s brain processed the blur. Grey eyes -_ No- _ blonde hair - _ No- _ black beret - _ No!- _the scarred face. 

_ James doesn’t know where I am. _

John felt the glass slip from his hand, and he gasped loudly. 

_ I never registered at Mary’s address. I didn’t announce Rosie in the newspaper. _

“John?” Sherlock asked, noting how John’s entire body had tensed. 

_ I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe. _

John opened his eyes, and made eye contact with Sherlock. “I met my wife through my Nan,” he stated, ignoring the questioning and worrying eyes coming his way. “We were at an anniversary party for my mom’s best friends and she-” John glanced down at his feet, realizing his glass was shattered under his feet. He threw his cloth napkin down.

“John,” Sherlock said, drawing John’s attention back to him. “Did you cut yourself?”

John glanced at his hands curiously. He shook his head, and looked at his feet. “I’ll be right back. I need to-” John started, before he pushed himself out of the seat and went to the bathroom. 

John shut the door securely behind himself, and exhaled loudly. He went to the sink, and talked himself through washing his hands. 

_ First you turn the sink on, next you apply and lather soap. _John did these steps as he washed his hands. The door to the bathroom squeaked open, but John didn’t glance up. He continued to stare at his hands counting in his head. 

_ Six. Seven. Eight. _

“Did you miss me, Johnny?” a deep voice asked him. Grey eyes met his own. 

John’s entire body turned to ice. “Major,” he managed, clearing his throat. “What brings you to this part of London?”

“Johnny,” the voice expressed in a disappointed tone. “I made it so we could be together, and yet, you still thwart me. When are you going to be the good Omega I know you are?” 

John turned the faucet on, and rinsed his hands ignoring how his heart hammered in his chest. “I’m not your Omega. I nev-”

Another disappointed noise. “You are my Omega.. You were then, you are now, and you will be again.” 

“We were kids, James. I didn’t know what I was saying or doing.” 

“We weren’t kids in Germany. We weren’t kids in Uni. We weren’t fucking kids when you married my sister… My sister, Johnny. What a fucking power move that was,” the man laughed, the scars on his face crinkled more. John squeezed his eyes shut, leaning hard against the sink unable to move or break free, waiting for the touch to come. 

He could feel breathe on his neck, and the slight pressure of someone standing behind him. 

“I do love a feisty Omega and I can’t wait to break you.” 

“John!” a shout came from outside the bathroom, then arms wrapped around him. “Hey! It’s Sherlock. It’s me.” John forced his eyes open, and glanced into the mirror. Concerned eyes, a handsome scarless face, and no beret look back at him. “What happened?”

“We need to talk,” John said, elbowing his way out of Sherlock’s arms. He pulled a couple paper towels free and dried his hands. 

“I already know about your ex, and I’m not-”

  
“You know he’s stalking me?”

Sherlock blinked momentarily surprised. “I didn’t know that, but we can handle it.”

"Why do you feel so secure about that?"

“Because I made a promise,” Sherlock said, simply. “I am dedicated to making our marriage a peaceful one, if nothing else.” 

John nodded, and leaned his face against Sherlock’s chest. His Alpha wrapped his arms around John, and held him for a while. “Yes,” John finally whispered. “I want more children.”

“With me?” Sherlock asked, in a low, velvet voice. 

“We’ll see.” 

  



	4. A confession and a lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some backstory and some violin playing.

Sherlock Holmes ushered his Omega into the waiting cab, before he climbed in himself. John leaned against his husband and said in a small, tired voice “I want to go to my Nan’s.”

Sherlock nodded, and instructed the driver where to go. “John,” Sherlock murmured softly, as they rode . “Mycroft is worried about you.”

“Mmm?” John asked, to show he was listening, but also moved closer to absorb some body heat. 

“He asked me to spy on you for him,” Sherlock laughed, wrapping his arm around John’s shoulders. “That’s how he shows his love.”

“What did you say?” John asked, tucking his hands into his own pockets. 

“I told him, ‘My duty is to my Omega as yours should be.’ He didn’t like that.” Sherlock pulled his scarf from his neck to wrap it around his husband. 

“He’s happy with his Omega,” John mumbled around the blue scarf wrapped around his neck and lower face. 

Sherlock snorted dismissively, “If you’re talking about Greg that’s his Stud. Myc is married to a man forty years his senior.”

John huffed, feeling a fleeting moment of delight. “You mean the Ice Man is actually a Trophy Alpha?”

Sherlock smiled to see this side of his spouse. “Yes he is.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, until they were were at Abby Watson’s house. Sherlock leaned over to open the door, but stopped when John’s strong hand was placed on his. Sherlock made eye contact with John, who looked ridiculously small. 

“If we have kids, I want to adopt.”

Sherlock smiled widely, “That’s a perfect solution.”

John ducked his head as he climbed out of the cab, trying to shake the effects of the panic attack-  _ or whatever it was _ . “I hope you didn’t marry me for my boyish good looks.” 

“Oh, no. It was for your daughter,” Sherlock said, as he paid the cab driver. 

“You did well with her.”

“What does she like?” Sherlock asked, as he shut the door to the cab. Sherlock reached out to take John’s hand and they walked up onto Abby’s front door. 

“Biscuits and repetitive motions,” John said, without thinking. They both laughed. 

“You ready for this?” John asked, as he placed his hand on the door knob. Without waiting for an answer, he pushed the door open to his Nan’s living room. “Nan!” John called. “We decided-” John cut himself off when he saw Mycroft’s personal assistant sitting across from his grandmother. 

“Anthea!” Sherlock shouted as way of greeting. 

The thin blonde woman smirked at Sherlock, and stood up smoothly. “Your suitcase is upstairs courtesy of my employer.“

“Mrs. Watson,” Sherlock said, quickly, remembering all those horrible manners lessons. “I’m so sorry for shouting in your house.”

Abby stood up with a grin, and shook Anthea’s hand. “Thank you for stopping by.” 

“Ciao, boys,” Anthea said with a finger wave as she walked out of the room. 

“Come in from the cold, boys.” 

John pulled his spouse into the room, “Nan, this is Sherlock.”

“Mr. Holmes, the younger,” Abby said with a stern once over. “You look taller in your photographs.”

John laughed as he started pulling his coat off, but kept the scarf around his neck. “Is the kettle still on?”

“You sit, John. Sherlock the kettle is in the kitchen. Be a dear and fetch us a cuppa,” Abby said dismissively, patting Sherlock gently on his cheek. She pulled her grandson into the living room and pushed him down on the couch. “You look like shite.” 

“Nan!” John cried in surprise. Abby sat down next to him, and patted his thigh.

“What did  _ he  _ do to you?”

“Sherlock?” John asked, “Nothing. I had a panic attack, I think. Either that or my eyes-” John cut himself off, and glanced up at his grandmother. “I think James Sholto is stalking me.” 

“Why do you think this, acushla? Jimmy’s always been so fond of you.” 

“Nan, you caught us making out on my birthday… then he got sent away to Military school,” John paused in his storytelling to accept a cup of tea from his husband. 

“May I join you on the couch, Mrs. Watson?” Sherlock asked in his most formal apologetic voice as he handed her the teacup. 

She glared at him, but waved her hand granting permission. “You’re lucky you didn’t wake the baby.”

“Nan, stop being an arse. Sherlock, stop being so formal. It’s weird… the both of you.” John took a sip of his tea, and swallowed it down, “oh, Sherlock. This is divine. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, husband mine.” 

John took another sip of tea before he spoke again. “I was eating dinner tonight and I glanced up over Sherlock’s shoulder. I saw James.”

“At the beginning, Johnny,” Abby encouraged, sipping her own tea.

“James Sholto and I knew each other our entire lives… One day, I was in the middle of a heat and it triggered his rut. A first for both of us. We helped each other through it. I was all but fourteen. At some point during the weekend, I must have scent marked him. I don’t remember it. It was twenty years ago!” 

“No one blames you.”

“So he went to military school. That’s when the letters started.”

“Oh, Jimmy sent a letter several times a week. I remember that,” Abby said, sipping her tea. 

“What you don’t remember is that his ‘letters’ were half love confession, half threats.”

“Against your Nan?” Sherlock asked, placing his teacup to the side. 

“Oh, no. Me,” John sipped his teacup, before he continued. “The letters continued until I graduated secondary school. Then I went to uni and medical school. While in uni, every chance he was on leave, we were together.” John took a sip of his tea again. 

“When we were together, it felt perfect like it should always be that way, but when he went away it was like the spell was broken. He was so cruel to me but for some reason I loved him. I stopped writing to him when I started medical school and I dated Mike Stamford. Mike was really nice, but he met his Beta and that was over.”

John placed his tea cup on the small table, and leaned closer to his husband. “After medical school, I joined the Army and I was shipped to Germany. I don’t know if it was on purpose-”

“There is no such thing as coincidences. The universe is rarely so lazy.” Sherlock said firmly, taking his husband’s hand. 

“We were on the same base. We picked up where we left off, but I had to stay in my lodgings incase of a medical emergency. I must have had too many medical emergencies because the next thing I knew he was married to some local German man, and I was being transferred to Afghanistan.”

“His doing, I assume. He wouldn't want his career ruined by an unwanted pregnancy.” 

“I thought so too.”

“That’s when you met Mary,” Nan added.

“Yes, that’s when I meant his adopted sister and we got married. I was young and stupid. I was scared, and Mary felt so safe. I was in Afghanistan for two years before I was injured. In that time, I’d get a letter every so often, but nothing too terrible. I also got a wedding invitation.”

“Bragging,” Sherlock mused. 

“Mostly during my marriage to Mary, he was silent. He let me go.” 

“Until he murdered your wife,” Sherlock announced, leaning forward steepling his fingers together. “Mrs. Watson, do you know if they included my violin?” 

“Upstairs, to the left,” John muttered, looking to his grandmother. “I couldn’t marry him, Nan. he’s a murderer.”

Nan didn’t say anything for a long while. As she thought, the thumping upstairs ceased and was replaced by the sounds of a violin being tuned.

“He found it,” John said, idly.

“Acushla,” Abby said softly, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“Please be specific. Tell you what?”

“About Jimmy.” 

John let out a hollow laugh. “Nan, it took me years to figure it out myself.” Abby reached out and took John’s hand, and looked him in the eye. “Is breá liom tú, Nan.”

“I know, acushla. We need to talk about Sherlock, though. Anthea told me that he doesn’t want kids.” Abby said, seriously. “And she told me that he doesn’t like to have sex! Johnny, an Omega’s duty is to have as many babies as possible. How will you achieve this?” Abby shook her head, “You’re not going to live up to your Omega responsibilities.” 

“Why are you listening to someone gossiping? Did Sherlock himself tell you?” John asked, pulling away from her. “Nan, you can’t listen to anything Mycroft or Anthea says.”   
  


Abby looked at her grandson, and for just a second, she saw her son. A handsome, too clever for his own good, and the softest heart ever given to a human being. With a shake of her head, she saw her own grandson again. “Johnny, I’m..”

“It’s fine, Nan. I’m going to bed.” John stood up, and stretched his body out. 

“Leave the cups, acushla. I put you lads in your Da’s old room,” Nan instructed, cradling her chilled cup of tea. 

John went upstairs, and popped his head into his old bedroom. Rosie was sleeping soundly. Her fist was curled around one of John’s old T-shirts. John stared for one minute longer, before he went into his father’s old bedroom. His husband was playing the violin softly, and barely looked up when John entered the room. 

John walked up behind him, and wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s waist. Sherlock’s entire body froze for a minute before he relaxed into John’s touch. “Will you play me to sleep, Sherlock?” 

“What are you doing to me?”

“This is called a hug. Rosie needs a whole lot of them every day.”

Sherlock laughed, before he went back to playing his violin. “It was disgusting. I’ll have to remember it.”

“Shut up, you know what a hug is. I’m sure your Nanny gave you lots.” 

Sherlock grinned, as he stepped away from John to continue to play and dance around the room. John did his nighttime routine, and crawled into bed. 

“John, do you think your Nan would let us stay here while the apartment was being renovated?” 

John smiled into the moonlit room. “I think it can be arranged.” 


	5. A party and a scolding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just something short and sweet :) Wedding party.

Rosie Watson-Holmes climbed up on the plastic covered couch, and sat for just a minute before she slid off. She giggled to herself, let out an ‘oops!’, and climbed back up. “Nan!” Rosie’s father called, with a bit of panic in his voice. “Did you put Rosie’s dress on her? She’s going to wrinkle it.”

“She’ll be fine,” Sherlock Holmes countered, bending over to scoop her up. “You ready to go to a party?” Rosie responded by banging her closed fists on his arm. “Do you remember what you need to go today when you see Uncle Mycy?” Sherlock bounced the girl in his arms, smiling widely at her. “When you see Uncle Mycy you need to vomit all over him!”

Abby Watson smiled to herself hearing her grandson’s husband talking to her great granddaughter. She carefully applied her lipstick, and glanced over herself. “Not bad, old girl,” Abby complimented herself. She joined Sherlock and Rosie in the living room. “John’s going to be late to his own funeral.”

“He’s fighting with his hair. Last time I was up there, I’m pretty sure he was muttering about just wearing his Class A’s.” Sherlock said, bouncing Rosie in his arms. “Abby-”

“Sherlock,” Abby countered with a tight lipped smile. 

Sherlock gasped as he felt his daughter tug on a curl. “Hudders will be there.” 

“Martha Barton and I have known each other since we were chicks. What I’m excited for is finally meeting Mr. Mycroft Holmes. I have quite a few words for that young man.” 

A loud sigh and the thumping of ill-fitting dress shoes alerted the waiting family that John was finally joining them. John had his hands stuffed into his pockets and a dour expression on his face. “I’m ready.”

“Really, Johnny,” Abby said, patting him gently on his cheek. “Smile. It’s your wedding party.”

John scoffed, and stood beside his husband. “Nan, I shall smile when and if I want too, and currently, I don’t care to smile.”

“Don’t be rude, Acushla.” 

Sherlock nudged his husband with a brief smile. John nudged his husband back, and suppressed a small smile. “Myc sent a driver.” 

“Of course he did. He’s a controlling son of a bitch.”

“Itch!” Rosie repeated, excitedly slapping Sherlock’s chest. 

“Good parenting there, John,” Sherlock muttered, sarcastically. John laughed and reached for his daughter. She turned her face away from her father and cling to Sherlock.

“Let’s go, you lot,” Abby said, gently shoving the children out of the house. She locked the door behind them, and made her way to the sleek black government issued sedan. 

Sherlock carefully strapped the child into her carseat before he climbed in himself. John climbed in after Sherlock, and also checked the car seat. Abby climbed in last, and sat down next to Rosie. 

John sat down next to his husband, and absent-mindedly tucked his hand into Sherlock’s. Sherlock gave him a gentle squeeze before he turned to look out the window.

“I’ve never been to Sherrinford before,” Abby announced.

“Why would you have been there? It’s this mangy old mansion with creeping ivy and rich old creeps get together to figure out how the world should happen,” John informed his grandmother. “I’ve been there once or twice, but it’s unimpressive.”

Sherlock chuckled to himself, “Weren’t you lead security at Mycroft’s last party?”

“I was, and I have to tell you, I am not impressed with your ancestral home.” 

Sherlock laughed harder and louder this time. “It wasn’t fun growing up there.” 

“I imagine not. It was probably rotted and smelt funny.”

“There used to be these funny gravestones. Myc’s had them removed, but they were weird.”

At the mention of ‘Myc’, Abby scowled. “That brother of yours is a terrible gossip.”

Sherlock snorted his agreement, before a peaceful silence fell over the car. The ride to Sherrinford was swift. Sherlock got out first. He pulled Rosie out of her seat as John and Abby climbed out the other side. The four of them walked through the aged house to the back garden was set up for a party. 

As soon as they walked onto the back patio, a waiter hustled over to them. “Names, please?” He asked in a crisp efficient manner. 

“Abigail Watson, Rosamund Watson-Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, and John Watson-Holmes,” Sherlock said, gently bouncing the toddler in his arms. He was making faces at her as he spoke, and she was excitedly shouting ‘itch!’ while flailing her arms.

“Ah, the grooms! This way please.” the waiter smiled politely as he led the way to their table. Sherlock handed John the toddler, as he escorted Abby to her seat next to the other women in John’s life, including Martha Hudson. 

John placed Rosie on his knee and bounced her as he watched his husband move. “Would you care for something to eat?” A waiter asked, lowering a tray within the toddler’s reach. Rosie reached for it, and John barely managed to get her out of arm's reach. “Thank you,” John said politely placing finger foods on his plate. 

Sherlock joined him at the small table set at the front. He pulled Rosie into his lap and instantly reached for his curls. “No sign of Myc,” Sherlock whispered, as he ignored a waiter.

“He’ll have a glass of champagne, and so will I,” John said, as the waiter placed two glasses on the table. “Ta very much!” 

“Do you think he’s had urgent business to was called away for?” Sherlock asked, as he continued to scan the tables. 

“No. He’s probably screaming at the caterers for serving something too soon,” John said, as he finished the second glass. 

“Would you like more, Mr. Holmes?”

“Doctor,” Sherlock corrected, absentmindedly.

“Sherlock!” a curt voice greeted him. John groaned audibly. “John! So good to see you both here.” 

“Well, it would have been rude not to attend the party you threw in our honor,” John managed to state, before he took another sip of alcohol. 

Mycroft smiled blandly at his new brother-in-law. “Somehow I feel like Sherlock would have rathered to stay home.”

“Of course I would,” Sherlock scoffed. “Mycroft, meet your niece. Rosamund Watson-Holmes meet your Uncle Mycy.”

Mycroft stared down at the toddler on Sherlock’s lap, and gingerly patted her on top of her head. “Nice to meet you, niece mine.”

“Ten pounds says he won’t remember her name,” John muttered to his husband. 

“He calls all his children ‘little ones.’ So I will not be taking that bet!” Sherlock said, in a whisper back to his husband. John was beaming at him, a bit drunkenly, but still happy. “Mycroft, how many ‘little ones’ do you have these days?” Sherlock said, shifting back to his brother. 

“Enough,” Mycroft said, gesturing to the party planner. Out of thin air, severs appeared carrying bottles and trays of food. Food appeared at John and Sherlock’s table. Rosie helped herself to whatever food she could reach. 

“And yet, Gavin is knocked up again.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, “Enjoy your meal, I’ll be over later.”

“Please don’t,” John managed to say to Mycroft’s retreating back. 

Sherlock took Rosie off John’s lap, and started feeding her from his plate. John tucked in, enjoying the rich, warm meal. Rosie and Sherlock continued to communicate and pick at the food on the plate. John ate until he was full, then merrily went back to drinking. 

After the meal was cleaned up, a live band started playing softly. Guests stood up to enjoy the band or the bar. There was no speeches or announcements made, and no one was dumb enough to approach the grooms. 

John was just about to tell his husband it was time to go when his Nan appeared, dragging Mycroft over to the grooms by his ear. 

“Now, Mr. Holmes,” Abby said, straightening her spine to her full height of five foot. “You need to apologize to your brother and my grandson. You are a venomous spider that is trying to wreck the Watson side of your family before we’ve even properly joined your family.”

Mycroft wrenched himself out of her grasp, and fixed his rumpled suit. “Dear lady-” 

“You need to apologize to your brother and my grandson,” Abby said sternly. Mycroft glared at her. Abby placed her hand against Mycroft’s cheek and patted it. “Don’t be an asshole, go on. Apologize.”

“For what? I have spent thousands of pounds for this wedding party-”

“Alcohol’s good!” John called, toasting him with his full champagne glass.    
  


Abby pulled her hand away from Mycroft’s cheek. “Where shall I start with your list of misdeeds?” 

“Misdeeds?!”

“You send that viper of an assistant to plant poison in my good home-”

“Anthea works for no one. Occasionally our goals align,” Mycroft tried to excuse her behavior.

“He broke my microscope when I was seven, Abby,” Sherlock added to the list.

“You are fifteen years his senior and you broke a poor child’s microscope!” 

John giggled, and leaned his head against Sherlock’s shoulder. “You can’t give her more reasons.”

“He burned my novel!” Mycroft countered, and glared at her. 

Abby shook her head. “You are the older brother. Set a good example. Regardless, you need to apologize to your brother and my grandson.” Mycroft continued to glare at her, and she stared right back at him. “I haven’t got all day, young man.”

Mycroft turned away from Abby and faced his brother and in law before he cleared his throat. “I sincerely apologize for whatever I’ve done to upset you both. Please, forgive me.”

John snickered, and mock-toasted him. 

“Thank you, Myc. I’m sure that was very hard for you,” Sherlock accepted the apology gracefully. 

“Congratulations on your nuptials. I see the prime minister and sorely need to talk to him.” Mycroft hurried away. Abby turned to the boys and winked before she went the other direction. 

Sherlock looked at John, and smiled widely. “Welcome to the Holmes highly dysfunctional family.”

“The Watsons are no better.” 

“Would you like to dance?” Sherlock asked suddenly. “I love dancing. I always have.”

“You know, no one’s ever asked me to dance,” John said, nodding his head. 

The two men, and the little girl, made their way out onto the grass in front of the string quartet. John pulled Sherlock as close as he could with Rosie in between them. 

“I’ll lead,” Sherlock said, as he placed Rosie on his shoulders and then pulled John close to him. They sway around the dance floor, ignoring the stares and comments. For once in John’s life, his doubts and fears seemed farther away than ever before. 

“Alpha,” John said, lowly, still enjoying the dancing. “James will not given up until one of us is dead.”

Sherlock tried to quell the rising growl coming from his throat, but he couldn’t. Rosie giggled at the vibrations, and John paused in their swaying. “I’m sorry, John, I’ve never done that before.”

John started laughing, before pulling Sherlock back into his arms. “Congratulations, Sherlock. You’re a real Alpha now.” 


	6. A family outing and a case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extactly what the label on the tin says.
> 
> Also, I reference the Speckled Band case twisted a bit for the A/B/O 'verse. 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me so far if you have. Thank you for all the love and support.

Sherlock Holmes stared up at his polished, well dressed brother giving a speech on the importance of an Alpha spending time with his children. Sherlock glanced over at his husband who was carrying their daughter in a sling across his chest. John was scowling at the speaker. Sherlock smirked at his husband, then glanced around the crowd. He spotted someone holding a camera, and stepped between his husband and the photographer.

“I don’t know who you are, but you need to put the camera away…” Sherlock said, in a deep voice laced with Alpha authority. “My husband and I don’t want our photos taken.” 

The photographer stepped away from Sherlock and disappeared into the crowd. John stepped closer, and said softly, “Thank you.”

Sherlock just smiled. “What’s the bet that his husband is sick?”

John smiled widely, and said in a low voice, “‘Oh, my Omega is just so sick these days, but I won’t let it spoil the children’s fun!’” 

“Have you heard this before?” Sherlock smirked, as John leaned his head against Sherlock’s shoulder. 

“Sometimes I get the emails from the base updates and there’s these edited to hell videos of The Holmes Family, Britain's first family.”

“Ah, yes. Featuring all my nieces and nephews.”

“You know about them?” 

Sherlock exhaled dismissively. “Oh, Otto is here.” 

John craned his neck to see his former boss turned brother in law standing in front of an ancient man in a wheelchair. “So,  _ that’s _ the Iceman’s husband,” John said, in a low curious tone. “He’s not what I imagined.” 

“Don’t let his body fool you. His brain is amazing,” Sherlock said, as he pulled John over to his brother. “Hallo Bruder. Wie geht es dir?”

Mycroft tisked before he waved the photographers away. “Always too formal, Sherlock.”

“Hallo, Sherlock,” Mycroft’s husband greeted him with a bit of a smile. The toddler sitting on his lap repeating ‘lo ‘lock’ over and over. “Wer ist das? Er sieht sehr gut aus.” 

“Das ist mein Ehemann. Dr. John Holmes meet Otto Klein.”

John smiled widely, and held his hand out to shake it. “I don’t speak German, so-”

“I speak English too,” Otto laughed, shaking John’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Herr Doktor.” 

“It’s nice to finally meet the Iceman’s better half.” Mycroft rolled his eyes, as he took a stroller from the nanny. 

“Oh, I like you Doktor.”

“This little lady is my daughter. Her name is Rosie.”

“Such a pretty little girl!” Otto exclaimed, then laughed at a tug on his beard. “No, no, princess, you are my best girl. Rosie’s pretty.” The toddler turned to the baby in John’s sling and stuck her tongue out.

Sherlock laughed, and cast his eyes over to Mycroft. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“We are the face of-”

“That’s bullshit. I’m not the face of anything,” Sherlock said firmly, as his Omega stepped closer to him. “I’m fine, acushla.” 

Mycroft snorted, and glared at his brother. “Pet names?” he asked in a thoroughly disgusted voice.

“Yes,” Sherlock said, as he planted a kiss on top of John’s head. “Nan’s been teaching me gaelic.” 

Otto smiled at his brother-in-law. “Your brother’s always been jealous of your language skills.”   
  


“He does claim to be the smart one,” Sherlock agreed. “Shall we start at the elephants or the seals this time, niece mine?” 

“I was thinking the petting zoo. I am really interested in the baby arses,” Mycroft smirked.

“Why don’t you just look in the mirror, then?” John asked, as he turned towards the penguins housing. Sherlock smirked widely, and followed happily. 

“That was brilliant, John.” 

“Now that we’re married, I have a lot of insults I want to try out. The ‘iceman’ is getting stale.”

Sherlock laughed, before he pulled Rosie out of the sling. He placed her up on his shoulders, and laughed again. “The reason we married may have sucked, but I’m so glad we did.” 

“It’s working out pretty well for me, too.”

“Why don’t you two get a room?” Mycroft asked, as he power-walked up beside them and then away. “You’re looking a bit rotund, John.”

John snorted, and called back with a smile. “I guess I’m too much like you. I never met a cake that I didn’t like.”

“Rude!” Mycroft muttered, before he disappeared into the building. John glanced at Sherlock who was frowning at his phone.

“Are you ok?” John asked, gently touching his Alpha’s arm.

“Gregson refuses to understand that I’m having family time.” 

“Does he need your help? You should go. Ro and I got this zoo thing.”

Sherlock stared hard at John, then shook his head. “No, Omega. I’m here for you and Ro. it’s-”

“We were bullied into coming to the zoo and I want you to enjoy your day.”

“I know you do, but I don’t want to leave you alone in the zoo.”

“It’s an Omega safe space,” John argued. “Go, figure it out. Save the day. Be amazing.”

Sherlock ran his fingers through his curls. “John, I promised Nan I’d keep you safe.”

“And I  _ am _ safe. It’s the zoo.”

Sherlock shook his head, and readjusted Rosie on his shoulders. “It’s penguins time. Go on, Omega,” Sherlock said tinting his voice with Alpha Authority. 

“You’re a dick,” John huffed, turning around and stomping towards the building. “I hate when you use Alpha Authority.”

“Then just be a sweet compliant little Omega like I know you are, and I won’t have to use it,” Sherlock said, as he grinned. 

John shook his head, and stomped into the building. “You’re a right arse you are-” 

“Really, Brother mine? Is that how you truly feel?” 

John frowned at Mycroft, and slipped by him to pull Rosie into his arms. “Go, Alpha,” John said, using all his Omega calmness that he possessed. 

“It’s a simple murder-”

“So, go, be amazing. Tell everyone what a moron they are, and come back to us.”

“I don’t want to miss the otters,” Sherlock mumbled, as he scrolled through his phone.

“We’ll save the otters for you, won’t we, Ro?”

“Meow!” Rosie agreed, as she craned her neck to see the penguins. 

Sherlock made eye contact with John, and stared for a long time. Finally he nodded, then glanced at Mycroft. “I’ll see you soon.”   
  


“Have fun. Rosie can you say, ‘bye bye’?” Rosie continued to struggle to free herself from John’s arms. Sherlock wrapped his arms around both John and Rosie tightly. 

For a moment, as John and Rosie were tucked tightly against his chest, Sherlock wanted to tell them about how they were the best part of his day, but he pulled away before the words could slip out. There was no time for sentiment. 

John paused for a moment as his husband walked away, feeling all the warmth dissipate from their embrace. “You ready for the penguins?”

John spent a few hours at the zoo, walking around with his new family. Rosie was a trooper until she decided it was nap time. John quietly excused himself and Rosie to the nearest Omega room. 

These rooms were little huts just off the bathrooms that had changing tables, privacy curtains for breast-feeding, and rocking chairs. John glanced at the Omega room attendant, who smiled politely, but didn’t smell like anything. 

_ Beta… _ John reassured himself, as he signed in, and threw himself into the nearest rocking chair. He rocked his daughter, burying his nose in the soft curls on her head. Her scent had changed recently. When she was an infant, she didn’t have a smell because he refused to put her down. So his scent of tea, a hot afternoon in the dessert, and gun oil was always wrapped around her. Now, though, she was starting to have her own smell. She smelled of sun-warmed grass, fresh laundry, and something tangy. 

Sherlock had a pleasing scent too, and sometimes John felt like his daughter was starting to smell like her new parent. It wasn’t a particularly bad scent. There was always the scent of newsprint, a fresh breeze, and curry around Sherlock. It was comforting for John, and certainly so for Rosie. 

A smile crept across John’s face as he thought,  _ I’m so glad she smells like Sherlock and  _ ** _no one _ ** _ else. _ Rosie snored quietly against John’s chest, and the soothing motion of the rocking chair lulled John into a restful state.

  
  


A loud squeak of the door woke John up in a bit of a panic. He looked around the small room seeing a new Omega walk in the room. She was small and blonde, but smelled terrible. Like smoke. 

_ Like him. _

John shifted his daughter’s weight to the other side to check his watch. Not even an hour had passed. He tried to relax again, but the smoke smell was becoming thicker. He glanced at the woman cradling a small infant in her arms as she paced back and forth in the small room. 

Rosie stirred against his chest causing his eyes to shift back to her. She was making the face she made before she started crying so quietly he sang a lullaby to her. He kept his eyes open, watching as Omegas and Betas entered and exited the room. 

The woman who smelled like smoke left, but the acrid smell lingered. John tried not to think about war zones, and quiet evenings spent in barracks as bombs fell outside. He tried not to think about the press of fingers in spaces he no longer wanted them. A shudder rippled through him.

John pulled his phone out of his pocket, and without thinking he called Sherlock. John stared at the phone as the number dialed itself, and as he heard a “hello? John!” he disconnected the call.

_ It was silly to call Sherlock for nothing. _

John turned his phone off, and placed it in his pocket. He glanced down at Rosie who was still snoozing peacefully. John closed his eyes, and allowed himself to be lulled back to sleep.

A commotion just outside the building woke John up. Groggily, he stood up, and made his way to the window. Outside security men were physically blocking an Alpha from entering the building.    
  


“John Watson!” the alpha shouted, wildly. “I know you’re in there!”

John stepped away from the window, and swallowed hard as a tightness built in his chest.  _ Go away, go away, go away. _

Apart from his panic, he tried to think about what to do next.  _ I can’t go there. I have a daughter. _

“Omega,” The Alpha said using his Alpha command. “I know you’re in there. Now come out here and do as I command.”

_ Think, John. _ John instructed himself as he ignored the Alpha command. 

“Sir,” a deep voice said, “this is an Omega space. There are no Alphas allowed in this building.”

“My Omega is in there,” the shouting Alpha insisted. “You see, we married recently and he has a disorder-”

“No Alphas allowed.” 

_ Yeah, no shit. No Alphas allowed. _

“John Watson! I know you hear me! Come out here, right now.” 

John pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and turned it on as the shouting continued. With shaking hands he dialed Sherlock’s number, and pulled it up to his mouth. “John! Are you ok?”

“Sherlock,” John said in a low whisper. “Please, I need help.” 

“Where are you?”

John closed his eyes, and focused on the question. “The zoo.”

“What’s going on?” Sherlock asked, as he listened to the shouting over the line.

“My ex is here. They won’t let him in because-” John cut himself off as he felt his heart beat wildly. 

“John, it’s ok. I’m going to come back to you, and then we’ll go home. We can even pick up Angelo’s on the way,” Sherlock said calmly as he frantically texted his brother. 

“I’m not so hungry.”

Sherlock made a small noise in the back of his throat. “This case was extremely easy John. Even you would have been bored.” 

John scoffed, “I doubt it.” 

“The stepfather did it because he is in debt,” Sherlock said, looking at Gregson as he spoke. “His beta daughters each earned a thousand pound salary monthly that he was able to take half. Now that both girls were engaged he was losing his cash cows,” Sherlock paused in his tirade to read the message from his brother. “Ah, Gregson, I see your smile of disbelief. May I remind you that Dr. Roylott spent years in India and had an infinity for Indian animals. He sent a trained venomous serpent through the ceiling. He did this for nights on end until it struck the older sister and once her body was cold, he focused on the younger one.”

“A snake?” John asked, opening his eyes, feeling his heartbeat calm down. “There was a snake in my boot once. I just dumped it out and ran like mad.” 

“That was a good plan. Do you know what kind of snake it was?”

“Yes, Sherlock,” John said his voice thick with sarcasm, as his thoughts stopped chasing each other. “The snake and I had a grand old chat about who he was and why he was in my boot. That’s ridiculous.” 

Sherlock laughed in a congenial sort of way. “How’s it going over there?”

“It’s quiet,” John answered after a momentary pause. He glanced down at Rosie who was still sleeping. “Ro’s sleeping.”

“Is her daddy holding her?”

“Yes,” John said, blushing at hearing Sherlock refer to him as ‘Daddy.’ 

A knock on the door caused John to jump slightly. “Halo, Doktor John. It’s Otto. May I come in?”

“Sherlock, I got to go. Come quickly?”

“Of course, John. I’ll see you soon.” 

John hung up his phone carefully, and forced himself up on his feet. As he was stepping away from the door, Otto entered the room. “Hello, Mr. Klein- Otto.”

“John, are you okay?”

“Oh, yes, I am.” 

Otto reached out for the sleeping toddler that John was clutching. John kissed the top of her head and handed her over. “What an angel,” Otto said, cradling her close. 

“Where’s Mycroft?” John, asked, glancing out of the hut. Outside there was a thick knot of official looking people.

“He’s discussing with the media the ‘disappointing actions of one Alpha,’” Otto said softly. “He is ever the policitan.” 

John nodded, and wrapped his arms around himself. “I really want my husband now.”

Otto nodded, and reached out his hand. “When I was a little boy growing up, my Mutter always told us to reach out when we see another being sad.” John just stared at the offered hand. “Omegas bond quicker than any other.”

“I don’t want to be touched,” John said, clearing his throat and glancing away from the offered hand. 

“That’s acceptable too.” 

“I just want Sherlock.” 

“Your daughter is so beautiful,” Otto said, softly, as he held her against his chest. “Children are the best thing in this world.”

“Rosie sure is,” John agreed. “I’m sorry, Otto. I ruined your zoo trip.”

“John, you just had a horrible encounter, and you’re apologizing to me?”

John laughed loudly, “Well shit. You’re right, I shouldn’t be apologizing for anything today.” 

“You should have talked to Mycroft sooner. Forgive me if it’s not my place to say-”

John shrugged looking the older Omega in his eyes. “I really hadn’t thought about that.”

“Otto? John? Will you guys come out here please?” Mycroft asked politely. John reached for his daughter, but Otto shook his head. Instead John pushed Otto out of the small building. “Gregson and Sherlock are on their way. Also, John,” Mycroft said in a low voice. “Maybe tell me next time your ex starts stalking you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Hallo Bruder. Wie geht es dir?” = “Hello brother. How are you?”
> 
> “Wer ist das? Er sieht sehr gut aus.” = “Who is this? He looks very good.” 
> 
> “Das ist mein Ehemann.” = “this is my husband.”


	7. The aftermath and a plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we're nearing the end friends... More to come tomorrow or Monday, I hope anyways.

Sherlock Holmes was pacing the tiny kitchen space as his brother stared at him. He glanced at the baby monitor that showed both John and Rosie were sleeping before he went back to briskly moving around the room. 

“You have no one to be mad at, but yourself. If you had mentioned the threat earlier, it would have been dealt with,” Mycroft said in his typical superior tone. 

Sherlock scoffed, brushing Mycroft’s words to the side. “There is a game afoot, and I’m missing something. Oh, think, Sherlock!” 

“There is no game,” Mycroft said, simply. “Sholto was thwarted and now he’s attempting to regain what is his.”

“John is mine,” Sherlock said, every ounce of Alpha authority dripping from his voice. 

Mycroft laughed, and leaned forward, “So,  _ Alpha _ , what’s the play?” 

“Protect John at all cost.”

“Oh, Sherlock, do be less obvious.” 

Sherlock stared at Mycroft with his anger seething, before he went back to pacing the small space. “I don’t know.”

“This is why I’m the smart one, I have a plan.” Mycroft stood up, and brushed non-exist dust off his suit. “Outside there are bodyguards, and whenever any of-” Mycroft laced his voice with Alpha Authority, “You leave the house, they go.”

“They’ll cramp my style.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, and took a step closer to his brother. “I want you safe too.”

“I’m not in danger,” Sherlock scoffed, as he paced dizzyingly around the room. 

“Sherlock,” Mycroft said harshly, then added softly, “Please, I worry about you too.”

“I’m fine, brother mine.”

“Of course you are fine, but you-” Mycroft cut himself off, thinking about all the things that Sherlock didn’t know. 

“I know more than I speak.” 

“That’s a surprise,” Mycroft said, dryly. “Let this to me.”

The two brothers stared at each other, and between them passed a silent conversation.   
  


“Say it,” Sherlock smirked. 

“Please, let me help you.”

“I’ll consider it. Now, you remember the way out, I presume?”

Mycroft pulled his little brother into his arms and held him tightly. Dumbfound Sherlock hugged him back. Mycroft pulled away from him, and disappeared from the kitchen. 

Sherlock followed behind him, and locked the door. He snatched up the baby monitor and went up to his tiny bedroom that he shared with John. he turned the monitors off, and removed his most of his clothing before he laid down with John.

“You’re not asleep,” Sherlock pointed out, as John shifted closer to him.

“Neither are you,” John countered. Sherlocked wrapped his arms around his warm Omega. “What’s the plan?”

“You already know it. Bodyguards around the clock.”

“It’s not going to stop him,” John said, softly. “I know this man. He won’t quit until he’s won.” 

“I’m not going to let any harm come to you,” Sherlock promised softly. “You should sleep.”

“I can’t.”

Sherlock exhaled loudly. “Then let’s lay here in silence until you fall asleep.” 

“I have an ob-gyn appointment tomorrow. Maybe after that, we should head to Mycroft’s for a few days while they finish our place.” 

“You really don’t listen do you, John?”

“Of course not, I’m the boss. I don’t have to listen.”

“Why do you think you’re the boss?”

“I’m just talking out of my ass, I’m sorry ‘Lock. I’m just exhausted,” John apologized before he murmured, “I was scared today.”

“You did great, though.”

“If anything should happen to me, please” John begged, wiping at his cheeks. “Please promise me you’ll take care of Ro-”

“John, nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“Please,  _ promise me _ ,” John insisted, twining his fingers through Sherlock’s. “She deserves a chance to grow up with a loving father.”

“She’s going to grow up with two loving parents. Now, John, please-”

“Promise me, Sherlock,” John said in a shaky voice that caused Sherlock to melt. Sherlock kissed John’s neck. 

“I promise you, I will take care of Rosie.”

“Even if I’m gone?” John asked. 

Sherlock nodded, but didn’t verbalize a response. He just pulled his Omega closer and tangled their legs together. Quietly Sherlock hummed in John’s ear, finally lulling him to sleep. 

  
  


The next morning, Sherlock walked John to his appointment with a pair of bodyguards. It was a calm, fair morning. The kind that London rarely had. Before the husbands parted, Sherlock pulled his Omega into a crushing hug. 

“I’ll see you at Sherrinford, soon,” Sherlock said, softly. He buried his nose in the top of John’s head and breathed deeply. 

“I’ll see you so soon,” John said, clinging a bit tighter for a second, then let his husband go. 

Sherlock watched John disappear into the building and struggled not to follow him. Finally, Sherlock turned away to walk home but the streets were crowded. He managed to lose his bodyguard and got back to Abby’s house quickly. 

Sherlock walked in the door to the sounds of the two women in his life chatting away. Rosie was babbling and shaking a paper towel at Abby who was smiling and making nonsense replies. For just a moment, his heart contracted painfully knowing this could all be taken away from him in the span of a moment. 

“Hey girls,” He called, masking his emotions. Rosie squealed, and slide off the chair to run full tilt at Sherlock. Sherlock quickly bent over, and picked up the child. He held her close and grabbed two handfuls of curly brown locks.

“Dada!” she shouted gleefully.    
  


“Sherlock,” Abby said with a smile on her face. She came up and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad to see that yesterday’s diasters haven’t dented your facade.” 

“They would never, Nan,” He lied smoothly. “Are you ready to head to Sherrinford for a week or two?” 

“Your brother said a month,” she pointed out.

Sherlock scoffed. “London will burn to the ground without the great Abby Watson around for that long.”

“Flatterer,” Abby said, less reproachfully than she wanted. 

Abby looked around the kitchen, and walked over to a lone salt and pepper shaker. She dumped the pepper out of, and plugged it back up. She pulled a dish towel off the counter, and wrapped the glossy cat in it. Abby held it gently in her hand before she nodded. “I’ve got the most important things.”

“A cat salt and pepper shaker?” Sherlock asked, as he gently detangled Rosie’s fingers from his hair. 

“It was my Mom’s favorite salt and pepper shaker. Her father got it for her when she was little, and it’s all I care about in this house full of memories.” 

“Let’s go, then. John’s going to meet us at the house, and so is my old nanny, Hudders. Well, Martha Hudson.”

“It’s about time Martha joined the fray,” Abby smiled, as she grabbed Rosie’s coat off the hook. 

The rest of the day passed quickly, the drive to Sherrinford took about two hours. Then once they were at the family home, chaos descended as most of Mycroft’s family showed up. Once Martha arrived, she took Abby to the kitchen where the two spent hours gossiping. 

Sherlock was distracted for hours by caring for Rosie, that when he finally realized that John should have been here hours ago, Sherlock was full out panicking. 

He burst into the kitchen, holding Rosie, who was crying at this point. “Hudders, you need to watch my daughter. John’s not here yet. Something’s really wrong.”

Martha looked at Sherlock and obeyed his command with only the slightest bit of chasting. “Manners, Sherlock.”

Sherlock shook his head, and rushed out of the room to grab his Bellstaff. He pulled it on, thinking as his body moved without him. He rushed out of the door and two things happened. The cold air was a slap in Sherlock’s face reminding him he was hours away from John. His phone’s text tone went off three times. 

Sherlock fumbled with his phone, and saw that he had exactly two messages from Mycroft and one from John.

_ Waiting for the doctor. I can’t wait until this is behind us and we can live our life together. Here’s to our future, Sherlock. xx JH _

_ Where is John? MH _

_ Found him. MH  _ attached to that message was a grainy photograph showing John surrounded by EMS and a blanket wrapped around him.

Sherlock dialed John’s number before he could stop himself. Finally he heard a quiet, “Hello, Alpha.”

Sherlock bit back tears, before he hoarsely said, “You’re alive.”

“Of course I am.”

“I’m so sorry I left you alone in London.”

“I can’t wait to see you,” John said, softly. “The whole time I  _ knew _ I was going to die, and all I could think was that I was going to die without seeing my Alpha or my daughter one last time.” 

“Come home, Omega. We’re waiting for you.”

“We’re on our way, Alpha.” 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dun dun duuuuuuuun!

John Watson’s eyes opened quickly, but shut them against the bright light beaming down. He moaned, trying to figure out where he was but doing absolutely nothing to actually figure it out.

“Oh, my dearest Omega,” a thick voice oozed as the smell of smoke wafted into the room. 

John groaned and opened his eyes. His vision was blurry, and he kept blinking his eyes to clear his vision. 

“Oh, don’t speak darling. You’re still coming out of the effects of the drugs-”

“Fucking bastard,” John spat, angrily. He struggled against the restraints.

A chuckle came out of the Alpha in the room. Quietly, he stepped closer to John. The acrid smell of him got to John before the physical body did. “You always did love to swing first, and ask questions later, but my dear boy-”

“I’m not yours.”

The man laughed, and pasted a smile on his face. “You’ve always been mine. Since the day you turned fourteen.”

John’s eyes finally focused, and what he saw was an aging exsolider with a thinning hairline. “You are absolutely disgusting.”

“That isn’t what you were saying when I was plowing you like the slut you are.”

“Untie me.” 

“You’ll run.”

John scoffed, and stared at the Alpha with hate rolling off his body. “I’d really like to go home now.”

“Here’s the thing, though, John. Why would I go to the trouble of bringing you home for you to just run away?”

“This is not my home.”

“And a baby, John?” The Alpha said, trailing his fingers across bare shoulders. John suppressed a shudder. “You let my dear sister knock you up.”

“She’s adopted,” John hissed in a sudden flash of anger.

“Did you think that I’d leave you alone?”

“I loved Mary in a way I never loved you.”

“Oh, Mary does have her charms,” He cut himself off with a loud laugh. “Had. She  _ had  _ her charms.”

“Did you murder her?”

“Oh, John. You’re too smart to ask  _ that  _ question.”

John sighed, “Will you please untie me?”

“Oh, Johnny,” he chuckled, stepping closer so John could smell him better. “You know that I won’t do that.” 

“Jimmy,” John swallowed hard trying out the name he hadn’t said in years. “Please, I won’t run. I have to pee. Please.”

The Alpha stared at him, studying him with a hard eye. “You can just piss in your pants.”

“I shan’t,” John said firmly. “Please, Jimmy. I’ll be as docile as a lamb.”

A loud click sounded before the heavy cuffs fell from his wrists. Slowly the knots got untied. Roughly John was pulled to his feet and shoved towards the bathroom. 

“Thank you,” John said hoarsely, kissing the Alpha’s cheek before he stepped into the small room. He locked the door behind him, and sat down on the toilet. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and started texting Mycroft furiously. 

_ Mycroft. He’s got me. Sherlock has no idea.  _

_ I’ll call you, and leave it on mute. Please. Come quickly.  _

_ I’m just going to play his game, and see if I can escape.  _

_ Tell my daughter that I love her, and I did my best for her.  _

A sharp knock made John jump. He flushed the toilet, and washed his hands.

“Jimmy,” he said sweetly, as he dialed Mycroft’s number. He muted the call and stuffed it back in his jeans before he exited the bathroom. “Thank you for trusting me.” 

“Oh, Johnny,” The Alpha said, placing both hands on the side of John’s face. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“You look tired,” John said, simply. “Why don’t we go rest, Alpha?” 

“Are you going to run?”

John smiled sweetly, and shook his head. “No, I won’t. You’re right, Jimmy. I’m home.” 

“I’m going to have to tie you to the bed.”

John kept the sweet smile on his head, as he headbutted the Alpha in front of him. The Alpha was too busy reeling in pain that he missed John’s second hit. It dropped him like a bag of rocks, and John took the chance to put some distance between them. He pulled his belt off his waist. He carefully approached the injured man and rearranged his body into a sitting position. 

John tightened his belt around the man’s hands. He stood up, and took a step away from the man. He leaned against the door, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He unmuted it.

“John! We’re coming!”

“Take your time,” John said with a giant smirk on his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you smiling? You deserve my brother. Lunatics the pair of you,” Mycroft said, dismissively.

John tucked his phone into his pocket, and looked around the room. He found a shiny new tire iron, and shoved it down his pants. He glanced at the man on the floor, before he glanced out the window. 

A set of headlights swept through the small room. A loud thud of the door being kicked open, and loud footsteps. 

“In here,” John called, almost smiling.

“Gregson, do stay stay on your feet.” The Ice Man said, as a small thin man with a shock of red hair stumbled into the door. 

“Mr. Gregson, nice to meet you,” John held his hand out to shake the stranger’s hand. “I’m Dr. John Holmes. This-” John kicked at the Alpha on the floor. “Is James Sholto. He drugged me, then kidnapped me all to fulfill his sick pleasure-” Another dull thud sounded through the room. 

“Really clumsy of you, Gregson,” Mycroft said, as he landed another kick in the kidnapper’s abdomen. The man on the floor groaned. 

“Took you long enough.”

“That was my fault, sir. I wouldn’t turn on the blues.”

“Well, it’s all for the best.” John said, briskly. “I’ll leave Sholto to you.” He turned to Mycroft, and grinned. “Come on, Brother Mine. It’s time to head home.”

“Absolutely not. You need to be checked out.”

“I am fine, Mycroft. I just want my husband.”

“Go see E.M.T.s and then we can head to Sherrinford,” Mycroft said, using his Alpha Authority.

“You total arse, Mycroft.” John stalked out of the building, and over to a waiting ambulance. He tolerated the fussing for quite a few minutes until they wrapped him in a blanket. “Now, for fuck’s sake!” He shouted ripping it off. “Where is the Ice Man?” A chuckle came from behind him. John turned and glared at him. “I want my husband.” 

“Let’s go, then since you seem to be fine.” 

Silently they got in the car, and rode to Sherrinford. It was a tense ride, with John’s anxiety mounting until they arrived. The moment the car stopped, John jumped out of the car running to his waiting husband.

Sherlock’s thin arms were around John before he could process what to do. John held tightly to Sherlock. “I’m so sorry, John.”

“No, I’m sorry, Sherlock. I never wanted this to happen.”

“Idiot,” Sherlock scoffed. 

John smiled, as he felt Sherlock swallow hard. “I saved myself. Your brother is useless.”

Sherlock laughed, and pressed John’s body to his own. “I’m so glad you are safe.”

“Me too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> techinally the story is over, but I Want to write some happy moments so, that'll be the prologue...


	9. Takeout and Plans

John Watson picked up the container of hot take out and leaned back against Sherlock’s shoulder. “So you wanted to discuss something serious?”

“I want to adopt a child.”

John carefully chewed and swallowed his food. He placed the container down on the table. John glanced over at Sherlock. “That’s a really big thing.”

“As big as marriage?” John moved his body to the other end of the couch. Sherlock mirrored his actions, and rested his face in his hands. “I love being Ro’s Dad,” Sherlock said softly. “I never thought I wanted it, but now that I have it, I can’t imagine not having it. I remember growing up and adoring my big brother.” Sherlock paused for a moment, and added his final thought, “I just don’t want our kids to be too far apart like Myc and myself.” 

“You’re serious.” 

Sherlock brushed hair out of his face and made brief eye contact with John before looking down. “Of course I am.”

“I think it’s a fantastic idea.” 

Sherlock’s head snapped up. He made and held eye contact with John, studying the blue eyes holding his own. He squeaked out, “Really?”

“Absolutely.” 

Sherlock nodded, and excitedly gushed. “There’s this little girl at Rosie’s daycare. She’s two, but her parents abandoned her. She’s got brown hair, blue eyes, and dimples for days.” 

“I bet she’s clever!”

“Oh, yes!” Sherlock said, smiling, pulling his hands away from his mouth. “Her and Ro were painting-”

“You sound smitten.”

“I guess I am,” Sherlock laughed. 

John picked up a beer and took a sip. “How many kids do you want?”

“Five,” Sherlock said easily, without hesitation. 

John choked, “Pardon?” 

Sherlock blushed pink. “After Mycroft started reproducing, I realized I wanted to be a Dad too.” 

“Are you and Myc competing?”

Sherlock laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “Absolutely and I will win.” John raised an eyebrow. “I’d win regardless.”

John laughed, and closed the space between them. Swiftly, silently there was a brief moment of anticipation before lips crashed together in an awkward kiss. Sherlock blushed and sat surprised for just a minute. “So your answer is yes?”

“My darling husband…” John started, then shook his head. “How could I ever say ‘no’ to you? You, my darling. My sweetheart. You married a complete stranger with baggage. Also, a needy grabby toddler on top of it.”

“She’s the best toddler,” Sherlock beamed at his husband.

“Let’s admit it, our first month of marriage was a train wreck. Mostly because of my stalker and kidnapping.”

“Well, the trip to the zoo was no fun.”

John smiled widely, “Do you really think I could tell you no?” 

“I mean, you could tell me no, but that would be unwise. I am your Alpha-” John glared at him, and Sherlock smiled. “And I am the head of our household.”

John smirked, and placed his beer down with a thud. “Should we check with Nan on that? What about Mrs. Hudson?”

Sherlock smiled, and waved his hand. “A wrong Omega is still a wrong Omega. No matter the number agreeing with them.” 

John laughed wholeheartedly, tossing his head back to let the laugh start in his belly and come up. “You wouldn’t be saying that to dear Otto.”

Sherlock opened his mouth with a confused look to say something, but shook his head. “Yes, dearest Omega.”

“I think we’re going to be really happy here.”

Sherlock nodded, too overcome with sudden emotion to speak. He leaned forward, and pulled John into a crushing hug. John hugged back just as tightly. “I suppose this means you should be thanking the Ice Man for this?” 

John scoffed, and pull back. “For the initial meeting I will, but this? This relationship that you and I are building has nothing to do with him.”

Sherlock nodded, and placed a gentle caring hand on John’s cheek. “Thank you.”

John looked up with a serious look on his face. “Thank you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for reading. I really enjoyed writing it <3
> 
> the boys will return in other amazing fanfics like Happiness and Crazy Little Thing Called Love. 
> 
> thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> In Irish:  
Acushla = Darling 
> 
> Is breá liom tú = I love you
> 
> Bí curamach = Be safe
> 
> as per *your* requests, more of is coming!


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